


with the end of the world glaring at us

by sanzuh



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Weddings, season 8 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26666824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanzuh/pseuds/sanzuh
Summary: Dragons screeched overhead and Sansa's chin jerked up, her eyes searching the dark skies. One of the beasts circled down and its scales caught the light of one of the many fires in the courtyard. Green and bronze. Her heart leapt up.Jon, it sang.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 14
Kudos: 69
Collections: Jonsa Autumn Drabbles 2020





	with the end of the world glaring at us

**Author's Note:**

> Jonsa Dungeons and Drabbles Day 2: _Changes ~~OR~~ Tradition_

"They're here," Bran said flatly, and Sansa's eyes snapped open. She'd been dozing off, sitting next to Bran's chair at the Heart Tree. She pushed her cold, stiff limbs to scramble to her feet and hurried out of the Godswood, twice almost slipping on a patch of ice. If she could, she would have grabbed her brother so he'd be the first she'd be able to bring to safety, but it was no use. Bran was a man grown, and she could never drag him all the way to the crypts.

Her breath came out in thick white puffs, and a chill like she'd never felt before ran down her spine. The cold made every breath sting in her throat and nostrils, but she had to keep running.

"Get everyone to the crypts!" she shouted to the first person she encountered. For the blink of an eye, everything was quiet as death, but the ground beneath her feet was alive and trembling. 

She blinked, shaking her head to keep moving. She wished she could hide in a corner and cry, closing her eyes until someone would come to wake her and tell her it was over. That person would be Mother or Father, or even Robb. But they were all gone. Sansa had to do it. There was no one else.

She knew who she wanted beside her the most in this moment. _No,_ she thought, _I won't think of him now._ That would only lead to despair. If the Army of the dead was on their doorstep, it could only mean Jon had failed, that he-- _no!_ If she allowed the thought to enter her mind, she would crumble into a miserable heap. _Be strong,_ she told herself, _like Jon and Arya._

People started pouring into the courtyard, moving about and crying out to each other, and to the loved ones they had left behind. Dragons screeched overhead and Sansa's chin jerked up, her eyes searching the dark skies. One of the beasts circled down and its scales caught the light of one of the many fires. Green and bronze. Her heart leapt up. _Jon,_ it sang, but the winged shadow turned away from her in the direction of the Godswood. Bran was there, he needed to be protected. Sansa wished she had a reason to go back there as well. She wanted to see Jon, so she could feel his arms around her again and bury her face in his neck.

A small but strong hand grabbed her elbow. "Sansa!" Arya hollered. "Come with me!"

Automatically, she started moving, having little control left over her body and what it wanted to do. "Where are we going?" 

"Back to the Godswood!" 

"Why?" she almost sobbed. "I need to get everyone to the crypts!"

"Alys and Sam will take care of them! Jon is waiting for you!" Arya sounded agitated. Was she annoyed with her or with Jon? They had almost reached the Heart Tree again. She whirled around.

"Listen," she said, her face serious as she chewed her lip. "Our--I mean, _my_ brother is an idiot, and beneath all your stony-faced ice queen bravado, you're still a hopeless romantic, so you're probably going to agree to this." Her voice had dissolved into an exasperated sigh and she rolled her eyes before taking a deep breath. "Jon wants to marry you, right now."

Sansa blinked. " _Oh,_ " was all she could say before she stared back at her sister. "Right- right now?"

"Aye, are you coming or not?"

She licked her lips-- a grave mistake, the skin was sure to crack up in moments--and forced herself to calm down. She nodded. "I'm coming."

He was already waiting for her, right next to Bran, a group of Northmen and Wildlings standing at a respectful distance. Her shoulders sagged in relief as she took him in, but then her stomach started to flip. " _After the war,"_ he'd promised, " _when winter has ended, so you can wear flowers in your hair."_

She understood why he'd changed his mind. The odds were against them. If they were all going to die, she wanted to die as his wife. She tried to force back the tears that would freeze on her cheeks if they were to spill from her eyes, and clasped her hands in front of her mouth, trying to get her breathing under control.

He threw Arya an uneasy look as he took a step in their direction, but he returned to his spot when she offered him a quick nod. She squeezed Sansa's hand.

"Who comes? Who comes before the gods?" Bran asked. 

Her sister answered: "Sansa of House Stark comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble, she comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim her?"

"Me, Jon Snow. I claim her. Who gives her?"

Hearing his voice made her wish she was already in his arms again. She'd told him she wouldn't let anyone give her away again, that she would give herself to him when the day came, but she couldn't find her voice through her unshed tears and the lump in her throat.

"Arya of House Stark," she heard from somewhere near her shoulder. "Her sister. Lady Sansa, will you take this man?"

Finally, everything around her came back into focus. "I take this man," she said in a steady voice, meeting Jon's eyes. She closed the distance between them and took his hand so they could kneel in front of the Heart Tree together. Eyes closed, they inclined their heads, but Sansa wasn't sure what to pray for. _Time,_ she decided eventually, _more time with my new husband._

Jon squeezed her hand, but she pulled him back down as he tried to help her to her feet again. He'd shed his cloak to ride Rhaegal, but she was still wearing hers. She held out a hand as she rose, reaching up to open the clasp at her throat.

He quirked an eyebrow as she lifted her cloak off her own shoulders to wrap it around his. "I know it's not traditional," she mumbled, "but I thought..." There was no time to explain, so she simply told him: "Rise, Jon Stark."

His eyes widened as he did and then he gathered her in his arms to share their first kiss as husband and wife. 


End file.
